


What's That In Your Pocket?

by honey_hill



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, So here's some fluff, but fluff for them, fluff was requested, in case that wasn't clear, including some literal fluff, merry pitchmas 2016, not like fluff for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9051412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_hill/pseuds/honey_hill
Summary: My contribution to the secret santa gift exchange!  The last time Beca heard a noise like that, it did not end well. At least now she knows how fast a rat can run, and that she can definitely outrun it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Pitchmas! Here is my gift for @brittsnowshuh over on tumblr, who requested Bechloe fluff. Here it is! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> As always, thank you to my awesome beta, who indirectly gave me the idea, and made sure this was all readable for you!

She’s going to be in so much trouble. No--she’s already in trouble; there’s no “going to be” about it. Chloe had specifically told her, several times over the past few weeks, that the party started at seven sharp. Not 7:05, not 7:15, and definitely  _ not _ 8:23.

If Beca weren’t simultaneously head over heels in love and terrified of Chloe’s wrath, she’d probably flee the country. But how was she supposed to know the music she was playing was too loud? She had even set an alarm to get there on time! It isn’t her fault that Chloe wanted her to bring snacks; her girlfriend should have known that that would be an excuse to go overboard with her (shockingly impressive) baking skills.

Shit. She feels guilty and horrible and like the world’s worst girlfriend for even trying to shift the blame off of herself. Beca can’t even deny that she’s the only one to blame for her tardiness. She should have started baking that morning instead of taking a nap, and she should have paid more attention to the time instead of being a perfectionist with her decorations. Even if Chloe never talked to her again, at least her fellow teachers will know how awesome of a baker she is. 

She’s rushing from the staff parking lot to the cafeteria where Chloe’s staff holiday party is being held, plated cookies balanced precariously in her arms, when she hears a tiny squeak coming from a dumpster by the back door. She stops abruptly, barely saving her cookies, and stares wide-eyed at the dumpster. 

She waits for a moment, heart pounding, and stares into the shadows. When she doesn’t hear anything after a moment, she continues on, a little slower now, but with no less urgency. She’s just reached for the door when she hears the squeak again, though this time it’s a little louder.

“Better not be another fucking rat,” Beca mumbles as she puts down her plate of cookies. She sneaks over to the dumpster, listening and looking for any movement. It’s quiet again, but as she softly places her hand on the cold metal, she hears another small squeak. Confused, Beca bends over, squatting down low enough to see under and behind the dumpster without ruining the dress she put on for the party. Seeing nothing, she gets back up and circles it as much as she can.

“Um…” 

‘ _ Mew. _ ’

Beca looks around again. There’s nothing else here but the dumpster. The orange light above the door to the cafeteria gives off an almost creepy vibe, but the Christmas music she can hear through the door soothes it a little. There’s literally nowhere else for what she sincerely hopes is a cat to hide.

She has her phone halfway out of her pocket to call Chloe and ask for help when she hears the mewling again, this time louder and more persistent. Sighing and tucking her phone away, she walks up the the dumpster and stares at it. The smell is, in a word, awful, but if there is a cat in there, she can’t just leave it. 

She takes off her jacket and throws it over by the cookies before gently lifting the lid off the can. The smell inside is even worse, but Beca holds her breath and peers in, leaning up on her tiptoes to see more clearly. 

It’s dark inside, the black bags of discarded food stuffs from the cafeteria nearly filling the dumpster, but it’s still easy for Beca to make out the very small, light-colored kitten staring up at her from where it’s curled in the corner. 

She whines in both exasperation and adoration, knowing now that there’s no way she can just leave the kitten in there. She’s sure, judging by the shivering appearance of the small floof, that it wouldn’t survive much longer than the night left out in the cold. She knows it’s supposed to drop to the high 20’s - something not considered normal in Southern California - and she can’t just leave it. It’s so small. 

She sheds her shoes and hoists herself up and into the dumpster. 

“Hi baby,” she coos to the kitten, smiling when it squeaks at her and stretches its head out to bump her outstretched finger with its small, cold nose. “Please don’t scratch me,” she says as she gently reaches forward and scoops the kitten up. 

Getting a closer look, Beca can see that the kitten is far dirtier than anything that has been taken care of before. It has a ragged ribbon tied around its neck, the red fabric dull and torn at the edges, and Beca can barely fit two fingers under it. She sighs sadly and unties the ribbon, struggling with her short nails and the tight knot. Eventually she gets it untied and throws it behind her farther into the recesses of the dumpster. 

“Okay you,” she says, cuddling the kitten to her chest, “how are we gonna get out of here?” She stands up, her shoulders just barely clearing the edges of the dumpster. She had a hard enough time getting in there with both hands, but now with one hand down and literal zero upper body strength, she fears she might be stuck. 

But the kitten starts purring, it’s claws clinging to the plaid material of her dress, and she knows she has to find a way out. She frowns, looking around at the bags of garbage. She shakes her head, but reluctantly pulls a few bags to the front, and piles them up, using them as a step to get her leg over the edge. 

She scrambles over the edge and barely sticks her landing, stumbling a few steps before finding her balance again. She gets under the light to make sure the kitten does not need any immediate veterinary care. It’s coat, darkened with the sludge from wherever it was before the dumpster, is a light grayish white, seemingly mottled under the poor lighting. It is small, its eyes still slightly holding onto that baby blue, but are clearly turning into a brilliant green. It’s clearly far too young to be away from its mother, and Beca wonders who would willfully separate a kitten this young from its mother.

Beca can hear her phone start to ring from where it’s still lying near the door, and is reminded of why she is at the school to start with. She quickly scrambles to the door, throwing her jacket on one arm at a time and zipping it up. She pauses, looking between the plate of cookies and the kitten in her arms. There’s no way she can hold on to both of them safely, and she knows that if she walks in with a dirty, smelly kitten, everyone would lose their shit. Teachers, Beca has come to figure out, get excited over the smallest things. 

Without much more thought, she gently places the kitten in her pocket, grateful that it is both small enough to fit, and calm enough to stay in the pocket of her leather jacket. She bends over, careful of the warm weight in her pocket, and picks up the plate of cookies before opening the door and making her way into the cafeteria. 

It’s decorated in the typical elementary school holiday theme - cut out snowflakes made by each of the classes decorate the wall, large speakers stand by the stage, belting out classic Christmas songs, and on the far wall a table is laden with goodies brought by the other teachers. 

She quickly makes her way to the table with single-minded focus, skirting the edges of the games the teachers are playing and not letting herself get sidetracked. She hasn’t seen Chloe yet, but she knows she’s around here somewhere. 

She gets to the table and quickly unsheathes the cookies from the saran wrap. She can’t help but adjust some of the cookies on the plate, trying to make it look as pleasing as possible. She doesn’t get very far in her neurosis when a hand clamps down on her bicep and pulls her back. 

Beca glances wildly up, alarmed at the firm grip and the rough treatment, when she sees a very angry Chloe Beale. 

“Okay babe,” Beca starts to say but is cut off.

“Where the hell have you been?” Chloe’s voice is low but sharp and Beca hasn’t heard anything like that in years. Beca opens her mouth to answer, but Chloe steamrolls over her. “Do you know how worried I’ve been? Why the hell haven’t you been answering your phone?!” 

Underneath the harsh tone, Beca can hear how close to tears Chloe is, and how truly worried she must have been. She pulls Chloe close to her and wraps her in a tight hug, making sure to pull her lower body away as to not squish the kitten in her pocket between them. 

“I’m sorry,” Beca says. “I really am.” Chloe’s tense in her arms, but eventually she relaxes and leans into Beca’s embrace, burying her head in her neck. 

“Where were you?” Comes the muffled response. 

“I um…” Beca doesn’t want to tell Chloe about the kitten yet. Chloe’s been against them getting a pet, citing their workloads and lack of time as reasons. And she knows, despite Chloe’s previous temper, that Chloe would melt in the presence of the fluff in her pocket. And Beca… kind of doesn’t want that. She knows it’s selfish, but she’s enjoying the attention Chloe’s giving her, and she’s missed Chloe today. She isn’t quite ready to tell her. “I got sidetracked with the cookies.”

Chloe looks up, brows furrowed at Beca, and looks to the table where the perfectly plated and decorated gingerbread cookies sit. She rolls her eyes.

“I don’t know why you just didn’t open a bakery. It’s obviously your other talent.” Beca smiles at Chloe’s teasing. “I mean, if this music thing doesn’t work out, at least you have a viable back up.”

Beca snorts. “The music thing is working out very well, thank you.” 

Chloe leans in and presses a light kiss to her lips. She pulls back, nose wrinkling. 

“Babe, you kind of stink.”

Beca knows she could play this two ways: one, be offended and guilt Chloe for making her feel bad (this usually leads to an awesomely cuddly Chloe and great make up sex). The other is playing it off and blaming it on something stupid. Which is what she does now.

“Yeah well,” Beca chuckles and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I lost my balance and crashed into the dumpster outside.” It’s something that happens with an embarrassing regularity--Beca’s lack of balance--so she knows it’s entirely believable. 

Chloe rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile playing on her lips so Beca knows she’s bought it. “What am I going to do with you?” Chloe asks.

Beca’s about to suggest what they could do together, when a  _ mew _ comes from her pocket. Beca’s eyes widen as Chloe’s narrows. 

“What was that?” 

“Ah-um. It’s, ah, my stomach? I haven’t eaten since, um, breakfast.” Not a lie, since Beca doesn’t count the taste-test cookies as food. If nobody saw her eat them, they don’t count. “I’m just a little hungry,” she grins, hoping it’s convincing. 

“Aw baby,” Chloe coos, pulling her along the table to the various foods the other teachers brought. 

Beca loads up her plate, but leaves it with Chloe and makes a quick trip to the bathroom. She checks to make sure all the stalls are clear before locking the door and pulling the kitten out of her pocket. 

“Hey buddy,” Beca says, bringing the kitten up to her face and nuzzling it, ignoring the smell. “Thanks for trying to sell me out to the missus. That was real swell of you.” 

The kitten mews at her and starts purring, and Beca can’t help but cuddle it to her chest. After a few minutes of this, Beca knows she’s going to have to come back out before Chloe comes looking for her. She reluctantly puts the kitten back in her pocket.

“You gotta stay there for now, okay buddy? I’ll check on you in a little bit.”

The kitten mews again but stays put, and Beca washes her hands in the miniature sinks before unlocking the door and making her way back to the party. 

She takes her plate from Chloe with a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek, and mingles with the other teachers. They compliment her on her cookie decorating skills, asking about her techniques and swapping tips and recipes. 

She takes a few more trips to the bathroom to check on her pocket kitten, but the little thing is snuggled up, happy as can be. 

Despite the reassurances that the kitten is fine and doesn’t seem to mind being shoved into her pocket, Beca is still tense throughout the entire night. She tries to have fun with Chloe and her coworkers, but every time she really gets into a game or conversation, her attention is drawn back to her pocket by a small movement or quiet noise. 

After what seems like forever, but is only a few hours, the Christmas party dies down and everybody makes their way to their cars. Beca follows Chloe back to her classroom to pick up Chloe’s things before making their way home. 

They’re quiet on the walk, hands entwined, but no other contact between them. Beca lets go of Chloe’s hand when they reach the classroom, taking the moment free to look at the new decorations and drawings from Chloe’s students on the wall. She smiles at the kids’ depiction of reindeer and reads their accounts of their favorite holiday memories. 

“Beca,” Chloe’s voice quietly calls her.

Beca looks over to her girlfriend with a soft smile that falls from her face when she see’s Chloe’s expression. 

The redhead is looking at Beca, worry and fear etched on her features as she chews her lip softly. 

Beca frowns and rushes over to Chloe, grabbing her hands and squeezing them. “Babe? What’s wrong?”

She sees Chloe’s eyes tear up and Beca can feel her heart squeeze in anxiety. “Chloe?”

The redhead shakes her head and tries to step away from Beca, but Beca just holds her hands tighter. 

“Are you going to break up with me?” 

Beca’s heart squeezes painfully at the note of sadness in her voice, and she quickly reassures Chloe. 

“What? No! Chloe, how could you think that? We just bought a house together! Like, last month!”

Chloe shrugs and looks away, but doesn’t try to pull her hands from Beca’s, so Beca knows Chloe believes her at least a little bit. 

“You’ve just been really distant tonight, and you seemed annoyed whenever I would get too close. You’re never like that.” Chloe’s eyes still swim in tears; the water making them appear brighter in the dim classroom lights. 

Beca releases one of Chloe’s hands to run her own through her hair. “Okay so, um, I might not have entirely been truthful tonight.” 

Chloe frowns and pulls away, dropping Beca’s other hand. She wraps her arms around herself and focuses on Beca. 

“I um, I  _ was _ late because of the cookies, I swear. But…” there’s a movement in her pocket, but Beca pays it no mind for the first time that night, more concerned with assuaging Chloe’s distress. “I would have been at the party twenty minutes earlier, but I heard a noise.” 

Beca looks out the windows, completely missing Chloe’s eyes flicking to her pocket and widening. 

“It was a like, squeaking, I guess? But it wasn’t like the squeaking from last time,” Beca rambles. “Like, it definitely didn’t sound rodent-like. And I spent, like, ten minutes looking for the noise but I couldn’t find it, and…”

Beca trails off as Chloe makes her way close to her side. She looks at her girlfriend in worried confusion, but Chloe’s attention isn’t on her. She glances down, following Chloe’s line of sight, and sees the small dirty head of the kitten popping out of her pocket. 

“Beca,” Chloe’s voice is still tinged with tears, but Beca looks up at Chloe and sees a smile on her face.

“I found it in the dumpster.”

Chloe looks up and smiles before turning her attention back to the kitten and gently takes it out of Beca’s jacket pocket. 

“Oh my god,” Chloe coos at the kitten, cuddling it to her chest. “It’s so tiny.”

Beca smiles at the adorable sight, quickly pulling out her phone and snapping a picture. She puts the phone away without studying the picture. 

“I want to keep it.”

Chloe looks up, eyes shining still, but this time with happiness. “We can keep it,” Chloe agrees. She runs her fingers over the back of the kitten’s head, smiling as the purring gets louder. “What are we gonna call it?”

Beca shrugs and wraps her arms around Chloe, leaning her head on her shoulder. “Dumpster diver?”

Chloe snorts. “No. Be serious, please.” 

Beca scoffs, offended. “I was serious! It made me climb into a dumpster to rescue it.”

“Fiona?” Chloe suggests.

Beca considers, but shakes her head. “What if it’s a boy? We need a gender neutral name.” 

They both stand in silence, considering for a few moments; the only sound the kitten’s soothing purrs. 

“Pockets.” 

Beca looks up at Chloe. “Pockets? Really?”

“Well,” Chloe shrugs and hands the kitten back to Beca, “it has been living in your pocket the entire evening. Didn’t seem to mind either.”

Beca considers before nodding. “Pockets. I like it.” She holds the kitten to her chest with one arm and grabs Chloe’s bag with the other. “Are you ready?”

Chloe nods, pressing a kiss to Beca’s cheek as she leads the way out of her classroom and back to the staff parking lot. 

Beca unlocks the car and holds the door open for Chloe. When she’s settled, she places the kitten on her lap and closes the door, walking back around to the drivers’ side.

She gets in and buckles her seatbelt, ready to head home, but before she starts the car she glances over to her girlfriend and their new family addition. Chloe’s looking down at the kitten, cooing at it and swinging the string from her jacket in front of it. The kitten tackles the string and tries to bring it up to its mouth, and the expression on Chloe’s face - the rosy cheeks, the radiant smile, the eyes glowing with warmth and love - makes Beca fall in love all over again. 

She thinks of the ring hidden in the toe of her favorite pair of boots, and knows that she can’t wait any longer. She can’t wait to be able to call Chloe her wife. She can’t wait for their family to grow. She can’t wait for the rest of their lives. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As for my other works, I'll get to them when I get to them, but if you'd like to request a one shot, send it over on my tumblr! @[relaxingwithhoney](http://relaxingwithhoney.tumblr.com/)!


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